Читать книгу The Bravos: Family Ties: The Bravo Family Way / Married in Haste / From Here to Paternity - Christine Rimmer - Страница 9

That night in bed, before she turned out the light, Cleo called Danny and told him that she would open a KinderWay at Impresario after all.

“Good for you,” Danny said.

She relaxed into her pillows, realizing she’d been vaguely worried he wouldn’t like the idea, that he might be a little jealous, might remember that blue box on the entry hall table last Tuesday night and suspect that Fletcher Bravo would be putting the moves on her. But no. Not Danny. He didn’t have a jealous bone in his body.

“Oh, Danny. You think so? You really think it’s the right way to go?”

“You bet. I think it’s a smart move. And I’m glad you decided not to let what happened when you were a kid keep you from accepting a great offer right now.”

She caught a curl of her hair and wrapped it around her index finger as she teased into the phone, “Who says I was doing anything as neurotic as that?”

“Hey. I didn’t say it was neurotic.”

“Close enough.”

“Aw, come on. It’s natural for a person to stay away from the things that scare them, the things that have messed them over in the past. It only gets to be a problem if you let what scares you keep you from doing what’s going to be good for you now.”

Sometimes Danny’s insights did amaze her. “You know, I think you missed your calling. You should have been a shrink.”

“Uh-uh. You need a college education for that. I’ll pass. I had enough trouble makin’it through high school.”

“If you say so. It’s the mental-health profession’s loss.”

“Yeah, right.”

“And Danny?”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t scared. Did I say I was scared?”

“You didn’t have to say it. There was no reason for you to turn down such a great offer—except that you’d have to be around the business that you always say wrecked your mom’s life.”

There’s another reason, a knowing voice in the back of her mind whispered.

That other reason was Fletcher Bravo himself. A man way too much like the men Lolita Bliss could never resist. A man with power. With juice, as they say. A man who liked a challenge, liked the chase, liked going after a woman he thought he couldn’t have …

And just a second here. How the heck did she know if Fletcher Bravo was that kind of man? Yes, he had power and influence. But that didn’t necessarily make him a dog. He wasn’t married. He was an eligible bachelor. Of course he would date. He could go out with a different woman every night if he wanted to and no one had a right to judge him for it.

And why was she obsessing over Fletcher anyway?

Really, she had to stop thinking about him.

If Fletcher Bravo gave her a thrill, so what? She was going nowhere with it. She was sticking with Danny, who was exactly the man she’d been looking for all her life.

“Cleo? You still with me.”

“Yes. I am.”

He laughed his goofy laugh. “I like the way you say that.”

They talked some more. He told her about a beautiful old Mustang he was restoring. She described the fabulous facility Fletcher had had built in the blink of an eye.

Danny was so sweet and supportive. “Sounds good, Cleo. Really good …”

Before they said good-night, they set a date for dinner Wednesday.

The next morning at ten, Fletcher called her at KinderWay. “Can you make it at two to go over the contract?”

“I’ll need to have my lawyer look it over first.”

“You think you need a lawyer, do you?”

“I wouldn’t sign a contract without consulting one.”

“Good answer.”

“How about this … I’ll come in and pick up the papers. I’ll take them to my lawyer. If I don’t have any questions, I’ll sign them and bring them back.”

“Fair enough. Come at one. We’ll have lunch.”

“You don’t miss a beat, do you?”

He made a low sound. It might have been a chuckle. “Rarely.”

She hesitated. And then she felt silly. It was only lunch, which she’d be eating in any case. She agreed to meet him at High Sierra’s Placer Room, where the food was supposed to be almost as good as at Club Rouge.

Again there was champagne.

“To celebrate your decision to bring KinderWay to Impresario,” Fletcher said as the wine steward poured.

Like the day before, Cleo only had one glass. What did she need with alcohol anyway? She was flying high naturally, feeling giddy and excited at the prospect of the big job she’d taken on. It was the right time to expand, she realized now. And she couldn’t wait to get things moving, get that gorgeous new facility staffed and ready for the kids who needed it.

Once they’d ordered and the waiter left them alone, Fletcher wanted to know more about her childhood and about the shows she’d been in while she’d worked her way through college.

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Your turn.”

He tried to put her off. “I know all about my life. I want to hear about yours.”

But she wasn’t letting him push her around. She repeated, “Your turn.”

He gave in and told her that he’d been born in Dallas. “My mother was working the graveyard shift at the Pancake Palace. Blake Bravo came in for a cheese omelet with sausage and a short stack on the side. For her, it was love at first sight.”

“And for Blake?”

“No way to say. He was gone in the morning and she never saw him again—not until about thirty years later, when she opened her morning newspaper and saw his picture under the headline Notorious Bravo Dies for the Second Time.”

“Your mom raised you on her own?”

“For the first ten years she did. Then she met my stepdad. They married and we moved to Ocean City. My stepdad serviced vending machines, had his own little business—still has it and does all right at it, too. They have two daughters, my half sisters, Cathy and Anna-Marie. Cathy’s at NYU and Anna-Marie is a senior in high school.” His expression had softened.

“You’re crazy about your sisters.” That pleased her.

“Yes, I am.” He said it with real enthusiasm. “Cathy’s studying microbiology. And Anna-Marie says she wants to be a writer—at least right now. She’s at that age where it’s always something new.”

“I wish I had sisters. Or brothers. I’m not picky. Family counts, you know?” Her hand rested on the snowy tablecloth.

He laid his over it. “I know.”

She felt the warmth of his skin against hers and she wanted to …

No. Uh-uh. Not going there.

Carefully she pulled her hand away.

As they were leaving the restaurant, they stopped off at a corner table and Fletcher introduced her to his half-brother Aaron and to Aaron’s wife Celia, who was also Aaron’s personal assistant.

Celia, who had a cute heart-shaped face and red hair, was pregnant. Very pregnant. She looked as if she’d swallowed a watermelon, as if she would have that baby right then and there, over lunch. She confided, “Our oldest, Davey, is just three. He’ll be attending your school.” She put her hand on her huge stomach. “And so will this one, when the time comes.” Her hazel eyes twinkled. “I’m so glad you decided to bring KinderWay here.”

“I’m pretty excited about it myself,” Cleo said.

At her side Fletcher laughed—a low, knowing laugh that played along her nerve endings. “To hear her talk now, you’d never guess how hard I had to work to convince her she needed to do this.”

Aaron held out a hand. “Welcome to the Bravo Group family.”

Cleo took it and they shook. She met Aaron’s blue eyes and wondered what he might be thinking. Like the Bravo standing beside her, it was hard to figure out what could be going through his mind.

Fletcher put a hand—so lightly—at the small of her back. “Okay, we’ll let you two enjoy your lunch in peace.” Cleo went where he guided her, stunningly aware of the press of his palm against the base of her spine.

They took the elevator to the office tower. As they stepped into the car, Cleo eased away from him. She turned and backed against the brass railing that ran along the mirrored elevator walls.

They looked at each other, neither of them speaking. She found herself achingly aware of how small the space was, how with only a step or two she would be in his arms.

Crazy. Ridiculous. She was not, under any circumstances, going to end up in Fletcher Bravo’s arms.

She shifted her gaze and she was looking at her own reflection in the mirrored wall behind him. Did she look as guilty as she felt?

Before she could decide if she did or not, the elevator whooshed to a stop and the doors parted.

Marla had a manila envelope all ready for her. Cleo took it with a smile. “Thanks.”

From behind her Fletcher said, “I’ll see you to your car.”

No way, she thought, as she turned to him. She made a joke of her refusal. “You don’t want to do that. You saw the way I pull out of parking spaces. I might actually run over you this time.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Danny had said it that night last week: He’s after you.

And he was. He still was: his hand on hers at the table; his palm settling so possessively at the small of her back as they left the restaurant …

Subtle, knowing touches. What a man does to draw a woman in. Nothing obvious. Nothing blatant. Making it so very easy to pretend it isn’t happening …

But it was happening. And she had to stop denying, stop pretending it wasn’t.

Guilt tightened her stomach as she remembered how she’d assured Danny that she wasn’t interested.

Liar, she silently accused herself. She was interested. She just didn’t want to be—no. Wrong, damn it.

She wasn’t going to be. She was stopping this slow and oh-so-clever seduction, stopping it right here and now.

She drew herself up. “No,” she said firmly. “I enjoyed the lunch. Thank you.”

He held her gaze for a second too long. She felt the heat zipping back and forth, arcing between them. And then he said silkily, “No need for thanks. I’m pleased that we’re going to be working together.”

Cleo saw her lawyer the next morning. The lawyer said everything looked good, so she took the signed papers back to Impresario that day. She made a point of not calling first, which meant she ended up handing the envelope over to Marla, who promised to see that Fletcher got it right away.

That duty discharged, Cleo returned to her office at KinderWay and started making lists, getting her priorities in order for all the work that lay ahead.

Fletcher called at three. “You should have told me you were stopping by.”

“No reason for that.” She spoke much too briskly. “I only dropped off the contract.”

He was silent. But not for long. “You’ll need keys to the facility. Did you want to conduct your interviews there?”

Her face felt hot. She laid her hand against her cheek. Blushing. Definitely. This was so absurd.

“Cleo?”

She realized she hadn’t answered him. What was the question?

Oh, yeah. About the interviews …

“Well, I thought I could hold the interviews here. I’ve got everything set up and operating. And my current staff will be available to help me.”

“Makes sense.”

“I will need those keys, though. I’ve got office equipment to purchase. And supplies. And furniture—tables and chairs, all that. I’ll need to be able to get in and out of the facility.”

He said, “I’ll have the keys waiting for you. Check the concierge desk at the hotel. Just show them ID.”

“Hotel Impresario, you mean?”

“That’s right.”

He’d have them waiting….

He wasn’t offering lunch, wasn’t inventing excuses for them to get together. Apparently he’d gotten her message loud and clear: keep away.

Good. He was the wrong kind of guy for her and she was glad he’d realized the two of them weren’t going anywhere.

He said, his tone all business, “Since you signed the contract without asking for any changes, I’m taking it that you agree to the opening day we proposed. You’ll be ready to open the doors on February fourteenth?”

The fourteenth was two and a half weeks away. It was also Valentine’s Day, as luck would have it. For some reason, that struck Cleo as terribly ironic.

“I’ll do my best,” she told him. “It’s cutting it pretty tight.”

“You signed the contract.” He said it gently.

Annoyance prickled through her. Did he have to rub it in? But then she reminded herself that he was only stating a fact. “I know. I’m a little worried about the background checks, though. I run background checks on everyone I hire, even the ones who are already licensed. But the checks can take time….”

“Are the checks really necessary? If they’re licensed already, I would think that would do it.”

She wasn’t backing down on this one. “There are a lot of reasons KinderWay is the best. We go the extra mile. All of our teachers and care providers are not only highly skilled and well trained, they’ve also been thoroughly vetted. We can say that we’ve done everything humanly possible to be certain no predator or abuser gets near any of the children in our care.”

He must have been convinced; he didn’t argue further. “Let me speed that up for you, then.”

“That would help. How?”

“Call Klimas Investigators. They’re the best. Talk to Brian Klimas himself. Give him the names of all your prospective hires and tell him what kind of check you want done on them. Tell him that you need a rush on it. And tell him to bill the Bravo Group.”

She wondered if he’d hired this Brian person to check her out. But she didn’t ask. “All right. I’ll call him.”

“Anything you need, just let me know.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“We’ll want a progress report midway—say Friday, the fourth?”

“Certainly.”

“Just to see that we’re on track.”

“Yes. Of course. No problem.”

“You won’t have to report to me. Talk to Darlene Archer in Human Resources. I’ll see she’s up to speed on what we’re doing. She’ll call you at the beginning of next week and set up a time the two of you can meet.”

“That will be fine.”

“Also, I’ll see that Darlene has a check ready for you tomorrow, to cover any early expenses you incur. Set up accounts with any stores or suppliers you’ll be using regularly. They can bill the Bravo Group. Again, talk to Darlene. She’ll tell you what you need to know and answer any questions that come up.”

“I will. Don’t worry….”

He actually laughed then. It was a warm, wry sound and it made her wish she could …

But no. Nothing was going to happen between them. She was happy with Danny, with her life as it was.

He said, “I’m not worried, Cleopatra. Not worried in the least.”

“Well, okay, then. Good.”

“One more thing and I’ll let you go.”

She clutched the phone a little tighter, realized she was doing it and consciously relaxed her grip. “Sure.”

“Ashlyn’s birthday party is on Saturday, the fifth. From noon to five at Circus Circus, the Adventuredome.” He added drily, “No one can ever say I don’t support the competition.”

Ashlyn’s birthday. She’d almost forgotten. Or, to be honest, she’d let herself forget. Because contact with Ashlyn meant contact with Fletcher, and she was seriously conflicted about that.

And yet, she had promised the solemn-eyed little girl….

And come on. Really. She was essentially in business with Fletcher now. She would be running into him now and then. There was no avoiding it.

And even if she never had a reason to talk shop with him again, even if she always went through Darlene in HR from here on out, he’d be showing up at KinderWay every day to drop off his daughter, for crying out loud.

Fletcher said, “I hope we’ll see you there.”

“Of course I’ll be at Ashlyn’s party,” she replied. “Please thank her for inviting me and tell her I’ll see her at the Adventuredome.”

“I’ll do that. Goodbye, then.”

“Goodbye, Fletcher.”

The line went dead. Cleo hung up and told herself she didn’t feel the least bit sad or at all let down.

When Fletcher finished the unsatisfying call to Cleo, he had another call waiting. He took it without checking to see who it was.

“Fletcher? There you are, at last.”

“Andrea.” Andrea Raye was a featured dancer in the erotic revue, Cancan du Bal, which had been playing at Impresario to sell-out audiences for the past six months.

Andrea laughed, a charming sound, one that was only a little bit forced. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

He supposed he should have a talk with her. “How about lunch tomorrow?”

“I would love lunch. Or you could just come by after the show tonight.” She pitched her voice lower and suggested seductively, “We’ll have breakfast—eventually.”

He spoke gently. “Thanks, but that’s not going to work.”

“Ah,” she said after a lengthy pause. “I get it.” There was a deep sigh. “So this is it, huh?”

“Andrea …” He never knew what to say at this point.

She laughed again, the sound more brittle than before. “Oh, please. We’re both adults, now aren’t we?”

He knew that whatever he said next was bound to sound lame. And it did. “Yes. We are.”

“I’m thinking that lunch will be a little too … after the fact, if you know what I mean.”

“I understand.”

“Will you send me something pretty, to remember you by?”

“Absolutely.”

“Diamonds. I really like diamonds….”

Andrea’s out-front request didn’t surprise him in the least. When his half brother Aaron had been single, before Celia had turned him into a die-hard family man, there had been a lot of women. The story went that Aaron would always give them diamonds when he said goodbye. Word had probably gotten around. Vegas, in a lot of ways, was a very small town.

Hell. He could almost hear the women whispering, I got diamonds from Aaron. What did Fletcher give you?

“Fletcher? Is … that okay?”

“Diamonds it is.”

“Oh, thank you—and Fletcher?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell you. I’m gonna miss you….”

He wished her well and said goodbye.

Then he buzzed Marla and told her to see that Andrea got her diamonds. After that, he called Darlene in HR and briefed her on her new responsibilities with the KinderWay project.

He didn’t like having to do that—didn’t like giving up the various opportunities for contact with Cleo that holding on to the KinderWay connection would provide.

But Fletcher Bravo knew when to fold ‘em. He knew that a better hand would come his way eventually. Cleo had been as much attracted to him as he was to her. There was no denying heat like that.

Not forever.

All he had to do right now was wait. Lady Luck would find him in her own good time.

She always did.